


The Hell Guest

by days4daisy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Implied Incest, M/M, Tumblr Prompt, that awkward 'meet the parents' moment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-05
Updated: 2015-02-05
Packaged: 2018-03-10 13:57:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3292922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/days4daisy/pseuds/days4daisy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The witch is already pleased by her son's demon kingdom. Imagine her delight when he is called upon by an angel.</p>
<p>--<br/>Takes place sometime after 10x10. General spoilers for Season 10.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Hell Guest

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a lovely Tumblr fic prompt:
> 
> _I love your brain and all the delicious Crowley fic x) Usually, when the character's mother is revealed, my brain would go straight to the awkward dinner with mother in law trope, but with Rowena, I guess it's more terrifying and uncomfortable. Rowena would definitely try to hit on Cas the moment she recognizes Crowley's attraction and flutter her eyes innocently that of course, she was only trying to look after her son. Pretty disturbing idea, but I think it could be crackish, too ;)_
> 
> I love your brain, anon ^_^

"You have a visitor, sire."

At first, the King of Hell is just grateful for the interruption. It gives him a chance to swat his damned mother’s hand away. She has been hovering over his throne, trying to smooth down his eyebrows. 

It takes a moment for Crowley to catch on to the absurdity of his underling’s words. “A visitor,” he repeats.

The demon nods. “Yes, king.”

“…In Hell.”

The demon nods again. “Yes, king.”

"A guest!" His mother is practically glowing. "How wonderful! Come, Fergus, you should introduce me-"

"Quiet," Crowley mutters. He glares at the demon, who shuffles back a step. "This is _Hell_. Hell does not get visitors."

The demon clears his throat awkwardly. “It’s…him, sire,” he says.

Oh. Well, then.

"Oooh," Rowena whispers. "Sounds important, Fergus-"

"You, stay here," Crowley orders. He stands without giving his mother a second look.

Instead, he nods at his underling. “Lead the way…whatever your name is.” 

 ***

The witch waits a polite two minutes before having a seat on her son’s throne. She stretches her hands languidly across the arm rests. 

Rowena decides to heed the king’s orders. Stay here? Why yes, she he can do that.

But what could be the harm in taking a peek around the corner? After all, she is curious about this special Hell-guest. And Fergus is her boy! It’s within a Mother’s right to make sure her baby is not attracting the wrong kind of attention.

Rowena utters the enchantment slowly. Her eyes roll back, only whites visible between her parted lashes.

Her consciousness travels through a labyrinth of torch-lit halls. She passes demons here and there, going about menial tasks. All on her son’s orders. 

Marvelous, this empire. Useful indeed.

Her essence is drawn to Fergus, pulled into a room deep within the catacomb. She finds Something in heated conversation with her son. This thing wears a man's flesh, but it is not human. It glows with an unnatural power.

Rowena shivers on the throne. Beautiful, Heavenly power. She licks her lips.

"I’ve procured the First Blade, as requested. I’m a regular Good Samaritan, love-"

"You have the resources to locate Cain," the powerful thing mutters. "You did it before-"

"We tracked the Mark, Castiel," Crowley corrects. "The Mark, on Cain. The Mark, now on our little Squirrel. You need a map to lead you to your favorite pet? Fine, I’ll whip up a batch of the stuff. If not, you’re barking up the wrong tree."

This Castiel, this thing of light, grabs her son by the lapels. Rowena feels the flare of his energy. It makes her son squint, actually tense for a moment.

But he soon relaxes into a more self-assured smirk. "Riddle me this, boy wonder," Crowley murmurs. "If I knew Cain’s whereabouts, and if I thought he could remove the Mark from Dean Winchester, why waste my precious time and energy saving you?" He shrugs. "You were my best play at the time."

Castiel frowns. He loosens his grip on Crowley’s jacket. “I still don’t understand.”

"You never do," Crowley says. "Lucky for you, sweetheart, your stupidity is part of your charm."

"Stop," the thing mutters. Rowena’s smile widens.

As does Crowley’s. He walks a slow circle around the angel. “I enjoy when you come to me like this, Castiel.” He sweeps a casual hand up the back of Castiel’s trench coat. “Standing tall, making demands…”

Castiel watches him warily. “I’ve only come for information,” he says.

"Ah." Crowley circles back around him, eyes glinting with delight. "You’ll…come for information. Is that it?"

"Don’t-" Castiel closes his mouth the moment Crowley steps forward, a sharp, silver blade held to his neck.

Rowena examines the thing with rapt interest. What a pretty knife. Nothing like the First Blade, jagged and barbaric. This is smooth. Crafted by precise hands. A Heavenly weapon forged for a warrior of God.

She wants it. She wants it badly.

But, now is not the time. Now, she watches her son drag this blade down the angel's chest. He slips the dagger just under Castiel's shirt, popping off the top button. Every button follows, plucked one by one, until the angel’s torso is bared.

"If all you wanted was information, surely you would have found some other way to summon me," Crowley says. "You would not have risked coming here. Not with that fading grace."

"I don’t fear Hell," Castiel tells him.

"Mm, quite." Crowley leans forward, the blade rested against Castiel’s neck. He takes a deep breath, chuckling quietly. “I smell something on you, angel. It isn’t fear.”

Faster than Rowena’s vision can process, the angel has a hand around her son’s, and around the blade. It falls from Crowley’s fingers, hitting the ground with a sharp clank. But Crowley does not seem to miss the weapon. The now-empty hand twines with Castiel's. His other pushes Castiel's coat and shirt from his shoulders.

As soon as Crowley succeeds in getting the creature’s clothing on the floor, his hand is free to grip Castiel’s jaw and pull their mouths together. Castiel steps into her son's personal space, body fit to body.

Rowena laughs. Her wee Fergus has grown to be a man indeed.

This will be useful before the end, she knows. Very useful.

But it is useful now too. Rowena watches hungrily as more clothing is shed. Tongues stroke together, soft grunts melting as bruises are left on borrowed skin.

Her palm slides down her dress, over the fabric covering her breasts. She lifts her skirt and moves her wrist beneath. 

Atop Crowley’s throne, Rowena opens her legs. Quiet groans vibrate through her projected essence. She lifts fingers into herself, stroking wetness and heat.

Her baby boy, the King of Hell. How marvelous.

***

”Oh, Fergus! Here you are.” Crowley freezes. His hand is at his crotch, where he just closed his zipper.

A glance tells him that Castiel has blinked on the remainder of his clothing, fixing the shirt buttons that Crowley destroyed at the beginning.

Dressing and undressing is nothing for them, but it is immensely more satisfying to handle the process with hands. This satisfaction has been stripped from Crowley by his snooping mother. He is understandably bitter.

“Can’t you see I’m busy!” he barks.

"I can," Rowena says. Her eyes sparkle with mischief, then tilt towards Castiel. Bollocks.

His mother strolls forward, a smile rising to her lips. Crowley feels Castiel tense. He places a hand on the angel's arm, stopping him from fully drawing his blade.

The look Castiel gives could roast him to a crisp.

Crowley shrugs. “It’s complicated,” he grumbles. Then, he glares at Rowena. “What do you want, mother?”

"Mother?" Castiel frowns.

"Come now, Fergus," Rowena coos. The sound of her voice pricks Crowley’s nerves. "I want to meet your lovely angel friend, of course."

"Fergus?" Castiel repeats, frown deepening.

"Not a word," Crowley mutters. He chokes off when his mother runs a hand up the angel’s chest.

Rowena traces her fingers up the open part in Castiel’s shirt. “You’re quite the pretty thing,” she purrs. “I can see why my boy likes you-“

Crowley pulls her hand away. “That’s enough, mother,” he hisses.

"Oh, fine." Rowena starts to back away, but stops to bat her eyes at Castiel. "It’s a pleasure, truly. Next time, we’ll get to know each other much better…won’t we?"

The woman is daft enough to pat the angel’s cheek. Crowley can’t react fast enough, too stunned to stop her.

Thankfully, Castiel is perplexed and, frankly, nauseated by the whole exchange. His surprise stops him from immediate retaliation.

"Out!" Crowley cries, shoving her back. "You evil bitch."

Rowena tsks gently. “You evil bitch…mother.” With a smile at the two, she spins on her heels and leaves them in peace.

Crowley stares after her. His skin - no, his very essence is crawling.

He dares a glance upward. Castiel is also looking at the doorway. His disgust has eased to something more pensive.

“I don’t trust her,” he says.

Crowley snorts. “Why would you? She’s _my mother_.”

"She is powerful," Castiel observes. "More powerful than she lets on."

"Heh. Runs in the family, I suppose."

Crowley frowns when the angel narrows his eyes at the doorway. "I have it under control," he adds, finally getting Castiel’s attention. "Go look after your homicidal Winchester."

Castiel looks at him.

After a moment, he nods. “If you…don’t…have it under control, inform me. Immediately.”

Crowley is amused. “Are you worried for me, love?”

His answer is the angel disappearing from sight.

Crowley glances upward, chewing his lip in thought. “You _are_ worried for me,” he muses.

Which would never happen in a million years. Unless…

He glances at the doorway.

Hm. Perhaps he does have a problem on his hands.

**Author's Note:**

> Loved this prompt, that was fun :D
> 
> As always, I'm on [Tumblr](http://daisy4days.tumblr.com) if you want to say hi or angst about Season 10 with me ;_;


End file.
